I always hated my father because he was a motorcycle mechanic, not a doctor or lawyer…
Growing up, I was ashamed of my father’s job. While my friends’ parents were doctors and businessmen, my dad worked in a garage, fixing motorcycles with grease-covered hands and worn-out clothes. It felt like a constant reminder that we were different—and not in a good way. I avoided talking about him at school, embarrassed that…
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